School of Seduction
by JustAGirl'xo
Summary: Weatherfield School for Girls: Where the beautiful daughters of elitist families go to become proper young ladies. So what's little street urchin Carla Donovan doing lurking in the hallways? With her, Carla brings scandal, sex, lies, and even murder to the usually uneventful campus. Has Weatherfield - and the boys of the school next-door - met its' match in the raven-haired beauty?
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so I know I'm pretty useless at keeping track of the five (!) other stories I've got on the go, but I had the idea for this earlier in the week and just couldn't resist starting a new fic. The basic concept for this is that Carla is fifteen and has been offered the chance to attend Weatherfield School for Girls, a prestigious boarding school that kids in her circle just don't go to. At the moment, I plan to split it into three separate stories, as there as three 'arcs', or years at school. If you like Carla, then there's something for everyone in the set of stories, as it embraces both Liarla and Carter, because I simply can't choose between the two :P. So the first story-and-a-half will be more Liarla based, whilst the second half and the final story will be more about Carter. It'll be hard to pick up halfway through the second story, though, so I would suggest that Carter fans start reading from here, you never know, you might be rooting for Team Liarla in the end! :P. I've tried to include as many Corrie characters as both students and teachers, though if there's anyone I've missed, let me know and I'll try to slot them in somewhere!**

**I've been heavily influenced by a novel series by Kate Brian, and a lot of the storylines and some of the scenes have been, ahem, _borrowed_ from the 'Private' series, so if you're a 'Private' fan, you may spot some similarities!**

**This is basically Carla's story since she's been on the Street, but adapted into a school setting. So you'll find Liam, Tony, Maria, Peter, Frank, Leanne, Nick, everyone who has been involved with Carla's story in the show telling a similar story in this fic. Also, I was going to do it as a 1910s - 1920s kind of thing, but I'm useless at keeping things in the time period, because I plan on getting Carla drunk occasionally, and a mobile phone or two might appear from time to time! So there's no specific time-stamp, think of it how you wish, just know in advance that Weatherfield School for girls is where girls from elitist families go to be taught to be young ladies. We all know our Carla, and that she's as far from a 'young lady' as you can get! It's kind of Corrie meets Gossip Girl meets Private meets Pretty Little Liars.**

**At the moment, this is a T-rated fic (because young ladies are very well-restrained, don't you know? ;)), but I might up the rating to M in later chapters.**

**I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think by leaving a review!**

**Chloe xxx**

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><p>Carla Donovan stared wistfully out of the window of the quaint little horse-drawn carriage that was the traditional form of transportation to the front gate of Weatherfield School for Girls, a long-established single-sex boarding school that housed young ladies from elitist families between the ages of eleven ad eighteen. As the only scholarship student to be admitted to the school this year, however, Carla's world was far from the realms in which her new peers circulated; though she had been brought up in a traditional nuclear family, with two married parents and a single sibling, their council-owned terraced house on one of the dodgiest estates in Manchester contrasted massively to the beautiful homes and mansions that were lived in by the students who usually graced the steps of Weatherfield. As her mind drifted back to her departure from home earlier that morning, Carla's heart groaned with homesickness, and the ever-present worry that she was just too different to the other girls to fit in.<p>

_"Look after yourself, kiddo," her father had ordered, giving her a swift kiss on the top of her head, before squeezing his only daughter tightly, not wishing to ever let her go.  
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_"Dad…" Carla had whined, ducking out of his arms and instead finding herself pulled into her mother's, who was already sobbing with heartfelt tears. To an outsider, the scene would simply be of a mother who was devastated to watch her young daughter of only fifteen-years-old walk away and not return until the Christmas holidays. Carla, however, knew that her mother's rocketing, polarised emotions were a mixture of a blazing hangover from the night before and a dangerous concoction of drugs used to aid her various mental and physical health problems. Carla sighed, returning her mother's hug half-heartedly, before spinning around and facing her little thirteen-year-old brother, who merely sniffed and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. To some, his scruffy hair, hand-me-down clothes and appalling manners would be considered a disgrace, though Carla loved young Rob Donovan for who he was, even if he was a dirty little boy who hung around on the grimy streets of Manchester.  
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_"See ya, Rob," she mumbled, biting down softly on her lower lip as she awaited a hug, a tear, anything to suggest that she would be missed by her brother just as much as she would miss him.  
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_"Bye," he replied, shortly, bouncing his football up and down a few times on the hallway floor and watching it intensely. Shaking her head slightly, Carla shot her parents a smile, nervous smile, flattened down her little beige belted shirtdress, the smartest item of clothing she owned, picked up her relatively small suitcase, and headed for the door. As she started down the cluttered front pathway that lead onto the street in front of their house, she heard the pounding of footsteps behind her, and sharply turned around.  
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_"Carla!" Rob cried, flinging himself into her arms. Carla said nothing and simply held him tightly as a silent tear trickled down her cheek._

Quickly, Carla rubbed furiously at her watery eyes, determined to refrain from showing weakness. She was a tough cookie, and not even a bout of homesickness would break her. She was sure she was going to enjoy attending the school that she'd dreamed of since the age of ten, when a wary representative had traipsed around all of the local comprehensive schools in central Manchester, including her own – providing the other girls would give her the time of day, of course. She had already met one girl she liked. Her name was Hayley Patterson, and she, along with a small, sharp-featured spoiled brat named Tracy, who was no older than fourteen and had mentioned her family's glittering history at both Weatherfield and the next-door boys' school, Coronation Academy for Boys, no less than five times in the last ten minutes, were sharing Carla's carriage. Hayley had shyly informed Carla that she had been new to the school the previous year, and reassured her that most of the girls were very polite and welcoming to newcomers. _Yeah_, Carla had scoffed to herself, _But most 'newcomers' aren't common scum off the street like me. _As she glimpsed the matching exteriors of the two adjacent school, a majority of Weatherfield still hidden behind a thick forest of trees, her heart began to pound rapidly with excitement. It was just how she'd pictured in her mind: spacious, yet cosy; elegant, yet old-fashioned; strict, yet surrounded by the sounds of laughter. She glanced ahead to the field of the boys' school which they were passing through, and watched intently at the group of young men roughly her age kicking a football to one another before sending it flying between two goalposts of trees. As the carriage neared, she became able to see the boys' faces more clearly, and her heart lurched as she met the pretty blue eyes of one in particular. He was tall and muscular, and his boyish grin and untidy hair only enhanced his attractiveness. He placed his foot atop the ball, unable, it seemed to take his eyes off of the beautiful stranger in the passing carriage. Carla blushed as her skin tingled pleasantly under the intensity of his stare, longing for the carriage to grind to a halt so that she could simply watch him for the rest of the afternoon. Unfortunately, the horses had other intentions, as they passed by the boys, and Carla was forced to tear her sight away from the boy with the blue eyes. She wondered if she would see him that night at the joint welcoming dinner between the two schools that evening; she certainly hoped so.

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><p>Carla drew in a breath as she knocked lightly on her dorm-room door, having already been informed that her roommate had arrived earlier that morning. As the door swung open, she was by a pair of big, bright, mischievous pair of hazel eyes and a tremendous grin that lighted the entire hallway. The girl's jet black hair was cut into a sleek, stylish bob and, much to Carla's surprise, she was heavily made up and dressed in a simple pair of black jeans and a figure-hugging (and, she noted, cleavage-enhancing) purple jumper.<p>

"Hi-ya!" the girl sung, stepping aside to allow Carla to enter, "Carla, right? I'm Michelle Connor. You're new here, aren't you? What do you think of Weatherfield so far?" Carla shrugged her shoulders, pleasantly surprised at her new roommate's bubbly, talkative attitude.

"It's nice. More modern inside than I expected," she replied, having been shocked that the school's interiors, as well as the inside of their dorm, Barlow House, were a vast contrast to the redbrick design of the outside, with its' pretty flowerbeds and the decoration of ivy twisting up the sides of the building. Michelle nodded, eagerly.

"Mr Elliott had the whole place revamped when he took over the headship of Weatherfield as well as Coronation, back when my brother Paul was at school. He's twenty-two now, he left the year before I started. Since then, the schools have been more 'together' rather than two separate institutions," she babbled, lavishing Carla with a flurry of information, "I've got another brother, too, Liam. He's in the Sixth Year over at Coronation. Have you got any brothers or sisters?" Carla paused for a moment after Michelle had finished her rambled, startled to be allowed to get a word in edgeways.

"Yeah, he's thirteen."

"Is he starting at Coronation?"

"… No," she mumbled, her cheeks turning scarlet as she suddenly remembered that Michelle and her two brothers, unlike herself, would have been brought up to believe that Weatherfield and Coronation were the only options for a decent education in the whole of the North of England, "I'm here on a scholarship," she admitted. Michelle's already-huge eyes grew even wider.

"Oh…" She gave a low whistle, eyeing Carla up and down, clearly impressed, "You must be a right genius, then. We've not got another schollie in our year." Carla's blush only deepened. "I suppose you've not got a boyfriend or owt, then? You know, too distracting and that?" Carla laughed, deep down wishing that Michelle's statement was true.

"Sort of. There's a bloke that I've kind of been seeing since I was about eleven and he was fourteen. He's a family friend of my dad's, it's always been on the cards for us to 'bring the families together' and all that bollocks." She puffed a breath through her lips, her stomach knotting at the thought of Tony, who was borderline her fiancé, though nothing had been made official yet. He was fanciable enough, with his rugged good-looks and charming Scottish accent, though he'd never made Carla's knees buckle when he'd walked in the room. Saying that, no man ever had, so she was beginning to believe that it was nothing but a clever plot device in gushy chick-lit novels.

"I've got a boyfriend," Michelle announced, a slight excited blush creeping up in her cheeks, "His name's Dean Rodgers, he's in the year above over at Coronation, though you mustn't tell my brother, he'd go spare. Dean's one of his best mates. We kind of started seeing each other over the summer."

"Is your bloke going to be at the welcome dinner tonight?" Michelle nodded, showing off her perfectly-whitened teeth in a wide grin.

"Yeah, I can't wait! What are you going to wear? Even if you've got a fella back home, there's nothing wrong with a bit of harmless flirting with the blokes at Corrie!" she giggled. Carla flashed her a smile in response, her skin growing warm with anticipation at the thought of seeing the blue-eyed boy. _Stop it, Carla_, she scolded herself, _You've not come here to find a bloke. You've come to get away from the one you've got, if anything_. Still, she was pleased to find that she liked Michelle. She could see the two of them becoming very close friends.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for your encouraging reviews, I'm so glad people like the idea. For you Carter fans, don't worry, as it'll be Carter's turn soon enough. In fact, in my opinion, Carter will be more significant than Liarla :). Yeah, as you can see, I've got this fic pretty well planned out, haha. :P**

**Sorry for any grammar errors, I haven't proof-read this yet. Hope you like it. :)**

**Chloe xxx**

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><p>The giggles and squeals of an over-excited group of teenage girls rang through the air of the dorm that night. They'd all huddled together in the biggest dorm in the building that belonged to a pretty yet arrogant young girl named Maria Sutherland, who Carla was currently eyeing with disdain as she admired herself in the mirror, pressing her lips together in a pout. Though her cute-looking floral dress clung to her curves and accentuated her cleavage, which Carla was sure would not be approved of by the prudish teachers in the school, she still looked very girlish, a stark contrast to Carla herself. She had borrowed a gown from Michelle, not having any of her own, which was a deep shade of red and highlighted her exotic ebony hair, ivory skin and high cheekbones. As Michelle fastened an elegant diamond necklace at the nape of her neck, she applied a second coating of matching lipstick to her lower lip before pressing her lips together.<p>

"Wow…" Michelle breathed, her eyes wide, "Carla, you look fantastic." Taking a step back, Carla glanced at her reflection in the mirror, almost startled by the woman looking back at her. She looked much older than her fifteen years, and in turn older than the other girls in the room.

"You think so?" she asked, tentatively. In her mind, she conjured images of dancing the night away with the blue-eyed boy, he transfixed to her every move, but she quickly stopped herself. She didn't even know his name, let alone if he'd be attending the dinner that evening.

"Am I heck. You're going to wipe the floor with the rest of us," Michelle whined, her eyes narrowing with envy.

"Don't be daft." Carla scoffed. "You look gorgeous, that colour really suits you." She nodded to Michelle's emerald-green ballgown, which grazed the floor and was surprisingly conservative. Michelle grinned, spinning around on the spot, almost bumping into a sour-faced looking girl named Sally Seddon, who was dressed in black and sipping gingerly at a glass of red wine.

"Come on," she sung, hooking her arm through Carla's and giving it an excited little tug, "Let's go find some boys!"

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><p>The grand hall of Weatherfield School was adorned with drapes and hangings, and its' lights were dimmed to create an atmosphere of romance, dozens of tiny heart-shaped confetti sprinkled across the few tables that had been parted to make space for a make-shift dancefloor. Carla stared up at the ceiling in amazement as she and Michelle led the way to the centre of the room. In the minimal lighting, it seemed to go on forever, an endless pit of darkness, save for a few tiny specks of light which Carla presumed were lights, though were intended to look like stars. She was jolted out of her trance as a few of the girls around her cheered, and her eyes fell upon the young men dressed to the nines in suits and tailjackets that were descending the stairs, each one just as gorgeous as their predecessor. Suddenly, her heart gave an almighty leap, as she found herself staring once again into the eyes of the blue-eyed boy, whose fitted suit and tie of a red shade that matched her dress only heightened his attractiveness. It was as though there were no other people in the room, as neither party could tear their eyes from the other. Carla's mouth was dry, and she could feel a gentle fluttering in her stomach, like thousands of butterflies fighting with each other to be the strongest.<p>

"Look!" Michelle hissed in her ear, "That's our Liam, the one with the red tie!" Carla bit her lip to prevent her mouth from dropping open in surprise.

"That's your brother?" she asked, not once breaking eye contact with the blue-eyed boy who was no longer nameless.

"Mhm. Ooh, and there's Dean!" Michelle squealed, scurrying over to her boyfriend and whisking him away to a corner of the room, where they quickly began talking in frantic whispers. Liam stepped onto the hall floor and slowly began to move in Carla's direction, gliding across the floor with an ease and confidence that made Carla's heart race with anticipation, beating loudly in her ears and drowning out the sounds around her. Except for the gut-wrenching cry of happiness of Maria Sutherland, who pushed her way through the crowd of girls and bounded over to her Prince Charming.

"Liam!" she called, engulfing him in a tight embrace as she threw herself at him, before peppering his cheek with kisses. "Oh, I've missed you so much, my gorgeous fiancé!" She emphasised his title loudly, as if for the benefit of the other girls in the room. Fiona, or, as she'd been quick to inform Carla, 'Fiz' for short', who was stood by Carla's side, gasped, her eyebrows raising.

"Liam proposed to Maria?!" she hissed, evidently surprised.

"Yeah, over the summer," a small voice piped up from the back of the crowd, which belonged to Sarah Platt, a girl a couple of years below Carla who enjoyed the company of the older girls due to her family's long-term friendship with Maria's, "She told me earlier." Carla felt sick. Her head span, and she forced herself to tear her eyes away from the loved-up couple and instead stare at the floor beneath her feet. _Stupid cow_, she cursed herself, _As if he was ever interested in you. He was probably having a good old laugh at you and that lower-class vibe you give off_. Furiously, she wiped away a betraying tear that had gathered in the corner of her eye, held her head up high and forced herself to smile. The lack of attentions of one boy whom she had never even exchanged conversation with was not going to ruin her night.

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><p>Carla sighed in satisfaction as she lifted another glass of champagne to her lips and took a swig. She was surprised to find that the school so readily promoted underage drinking, though Hayley had politely informed her that Headmaster Elliott believed that providing alcohol would encourage the students to be responsible drinkers, and as most of the were afraid of disgracing their families, it was very rare for a student to consume too much alcohol at a school event. That was, of course, until Carla had rocked up. The glass was her fifth or sixth of the evening, she wasn't quite sure which, and the familiar buzz of happiness that dulled down the emotional torment that she was experiencing as she watched Maria twirl around the floor in Liam's seemingly reluctant arms was growing stronger with every sip.<p>

"Knocking that back a bit, aren't you?" Michelle commented as she appeared from behind her roommate and placed a worried hand on her shoulder. Carla shrugged.

"I could probably drink the rest of you under the table," she replied, her speech still faultless, her tipsiness unnoticeable. Clearly, Michelle had been keeping a watchful eye on her new friend.

"Well, be careful. Mrs. Roberts seems nice, but she'll ban you from school events if she realises how much you've had to drink," Michelle warned her, helpfully plucking the glass from Carla's fingertips and setting it down on the table in front of them, "Come on. I want to introduce you to Dean and his mate Jason, he's dying to meet you." Reluctantly, Carla allowed herself to he dragged away from the refreshments table, though she stopped dead in her tracks as she felt the burn of a pair of eyes watching her. She turned, sharply, and found herself once again gazing into those familiar blue eyes. Liam, though he had his arms wrapped around Maria in the centre of the dancefloor, was gazing at Carla over his fiancée's shoulder, almost apologetically. Carla gulped, a shiver coursing through her body, and she forced herself to tear her sight away and trail after her roommate. There was no way on Earth she was going to encroach on another girl's betrothed on her first day at her new school.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you millions for your reviews and your interest in this fic! As previously stated, Peter will appear and will become a central character, there will be Carter, but for now, whilst the Liarla plot plays out, Peter will just be in the background, and he'll make his first appearance soon enough. :)**

**I hope you like it - please read and review, constructive criticism and loveliness is much appreciated!**

**Chloe xxx**

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><p>Her trademark dirty giggle rippled through the sea of students as she drunkenly threw her arms around Jason Grimshaw's neck, and the clean-cut young gentleman couldn't have seemed smugger. Carla had long lost track of the amount of champagne that she'd poured down her throat that evening, and she was past caring. Watching her blue-eyed mystery boy whispering sweet nothings into his sweetheart's ear was an excuse to drink herself into oblivion in her book – not that streetwise Carla Donovan had ever needed an excuse to hit the bottle. Suddenly, Jason spun around in surprise as he felt an intrusive tap on his shoulder and, as Carla glanced up, her heart gave a jolt, those striking blue eyes meeting her own.<p>

"May I?" Liam asked, his thick, heavy Northern accent sending a visible shiver down her spine. He held out a palm, which Carla eyed warily.

"Go ahead," Jason grumbled, cursing under his breath as he reluctantly stalked over to the buffet table to join his friend, Kirk, Maria's older brother, who was unashamedly trying his luck with Fiona. Carla drew in a deep, shaking breath as she placed her small hand in Liam's, which he engulfed before wrapping his opposing arm around her and resting his hand on the bare small of her back. Carla's eyelids fluttered shut for a moment as she silently reprimanded herself for allowing Michelle to choose her a dress which displayed so much flesh. Eventually, she opened them again, though was instantly struck by how handsome Liam was up close.

"Where's your wife-to-be?" she asked, sharply, shooting him a harsh glare, "Won't she give you a telling-off if she sees us?" Liam cringed.

"I wouldn't say 'wife-to-be'…" he started, but was promptly silenced as Carla touched her manicured index finger to his lips.

"Did you propose to her?"

"Technically speaking…" Liam mumbled, gently taking hold of her wrist and instead placing her hand atop his shoulder, "It's complicated. I'm Liam, by the way, it's nice to meet you." Carla blushed furiously.

"Carla."

"I like it." The raven-haired beauty's blush deepened. "How many people have told you so far tonight that you look absolutely beautiful?"

"Only Michelle."

"Well, make that two. You'd wipe the floor with any of the other girls in here." Carla gulped, her eyes nervously darting about the room, searching out the familiar floral-print dress that made her stomach knot whenever she spotted it.

"What about Maria?" she asked, tentatively, surprised to find that her mouth had run dry as a result of her nerves. She prayed that Liam couldn't feel the line of sweat that lined the palms of her hands; if he could, he was enough of a gentleman not to say so. He shrugged, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes.

"What about her?" It was as though a giant wall had formed around them, separating them from the rest of the world. The excited chatter slowly faded into nothingness, the surrounding students nothing but a colourful blur in the corners of their eyes. She wanted him, she was ashamed to admit to herself. There was no other explanation for the way that the tiny blonde hairs across her body stood up on end, the goosebumps across her bare arms, and the tell-tale rapid thudding of her heart. Guilt plagued her, though she quickly batted it away. She was a hypocrite; how could she possibly lecture him when she was as good as engaged herself? She and Tony had been an item for years – she shuddered to think what he'd do if he could see her now.

"I don't even know you…" Carla murmured allowed, quickly biting her lip in her embarrassment at having voiced her inner thoughts to him. Liam merely smiled knowingly in response, though, tilting his head a little closer to hers.

"I'd like to change that," came his whispered reply, which only increased the rate of Carla's pounding heart. Suddenly, the little snow dome surrounding them was shattered by the loud 'smack' of skin-on-skin from beside the buffet table. The couple both glanced over Carla's shoulder to see Kirk Sutherland cowering in the corner with his hand cupped over his stinging cheek, and Fiz by his side, blowing on her hand. Carla chuckled to herself, though her eyes widened in horror and her heart sank as she spotted Maria sailing into the room. Hastily, she sprung out of Liam's arms and composed herself though, as she turned to move away, Liam grabbed hold of her wrist, forcing her to look back at him.

"Meet me tomorrow."

"How?"

"I'll find a way." As Maria rocketed through the crowd of people, pushing her way past slow-dancing couples and joking singletons, Liam quickly dropped Carla's hand, and she was soon enveloped into the crowd, left alone as Liam resumed his dance with the woman that he was going to marry.

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><p>Shivering, Carla wriggled a little further down under her duvet, a slight chill sneaking into the room through the crack beneath the window. She screwed her eyes shut, longing for sleep to overcome her, but to no avail, much like her regular attempts to sleep throughout the past few hours. She could hear a faint whistle from the other side of the room – Michelle was a snorer, though that wasn't what had been keeping her awake. She just couldn't banish the thoughts of Liam from her mind. She knew it was wrong, the sick feeling in her stomach was enough to tell her that, but she couldn't help but picture him, them, his lips pressed firmly against hers. She wouldn't let it happen. Carla was many things, but a homewrecker wasn't one of them, especially when the love rival in question was one of the most popular girls in the school. She sighed. It wasn't like her at all. Usually, she was strong, and she'd never once let her emotions get the better of her, but this time was different.<br>_Forget it_, she instructed herself, _This ends now, before it really starts_. Carla jumped in surprise as there was a faint, almost disputable tap at the door. Slipping her legs out of bed, Carla sucked in a sharp intake of breath as the cold air washed over her bare skin, though she hopped to her feet and padded over to the dorm room door regardless, curious to see who on earth was outside at this time of night. She opened it slowly, not wanting to wake Michelle, and had to stifle a gasp with her hand as she spotted a single red rose positioned on the floor just outside the door, with a note attached. She crouched beside it and plucked it up by her thumb and forefinger, turning it over in her palm. Her heart lurched with bliss at the sheer cliché of it; though she appear to be as tough as a pair of old boots, she was a hopeless romantic at heart, triggered by years of an amour-less relationship with a shrewd Scotsman.  
>'<em>Tomorrow night<em>,' the note read, '_After dinner, outside the art gallery. Yours, L x_'  
>'<em>Yours<em>', Carla thought, a shiver of excitement coursing down her spine. In spite of herself, the thought of belonging to Liam Connor made her heart beat madly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much for your reviews! Like I said before, I can assure you that this will eventually become a Carter fic, though it's Liarla for now - to satisfy you Carter fans a little bit, Peter gets his first mention in the next chapter :P.**

**Bit of a shorter chapter this time, sorry. I'm incredibly busy with work, uni and rehearsals at the moment, and I really wanted to get this update out tonight.  
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**As always, please read and review, it means a lot to me, and I do try to work on any constructive criticism that I receive.**

**Love,**

**Chloe xxx**

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><p>Carla groaned, leaning forward in her seat and banging her forehead against the desk in front of her, squeezing her eyes tightly shut.<p>

"This is so pointless," she grumbled, her voice muffled by the hardwood desk, though the shift into darkness provided a sought-after comfort for her, "When will we ever use this crap in real life?"

"Carla," hissed Hayley, who was sat to her left and scribbling frantically in her notebook, the studious type, as Carla had quickly discovered earlier that morning during their first lesson, "Don't let Mr Cropper hear you talk like that, he'll put you under house arrest."

"Or Sally," Michelle contributed from her other side, sending a fleeting glance over her shoulder at their snitching peer. Sally Seddon, ever the teacher's pet, had been devastated to arrive to their Mathematics lesson a few minutes late and miss out on her favourite spot at the front of the class, right under the teacher's nose, "Same consequences, plus having to put up with her smug smirk for weeks on end. No, thank you."

"Besides, you're only thinking like that because you're chronically hungover," Hayley pointed out, disapprovingly raising an eyebrow without tearing her eyes from the blackboard at the front of the room. Carla raised her heavy head, a frown formulating on her glossed lips.

"How do you know I was sozzled?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Hayley, however, shot her a small, knowing smile.

"You were stumbling."

"I do not stumble."

"You were stumbling," she repeated, sticking the tip of her tongue between her lips as she frantically tried to note down a Mr Cropper's ramblings at a rapid speed, "And you were saying allsorts. Michelle was stamping on your foot every time you went to say something daft to one of the teachers."

"I wasn't that bad!" Carla hissed, her cheeks filling with a deep crimson blush as the blur of the night before began to normalise in her mind, "… Was I?"

"Ladies," Mr Cropper interjected from the front of them, shifting uncomfortably from foot-to-foot as he cleared his throat and attempted to stare intimidatingly at the three young ladies, "C-c-could you please refrain from t-talking during my c-c-class? Y-you have plenty of time to ca-catch up afterwards." Carla merely snorted in response to his humorous stammer, resting her elbows on the desk and her chin atop her hands. Blushing, Hayley glanced down at her notebook, before gazing back up at their teacher through her eyelashes.

"Sorry, Mr Cropper," she mumbled, breathing a sigh of relief as he returned to his teaching. Carla's mouth dropped open as she stared at her new friend, incredulously.

"Are you sweet on him?" she whispered, to which Hayley responded by sharply kicking her underneath the desk.

"Shh…" she whispered, pointing at the blackboard, "Algebra."

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><p>Getting through dinner that night whilst trying to prevent her heart from leaping merrily out of her chest and landing on the table in front of her had proved to be a struggle for Weatherfield's newest student. Her pulse pounded rapidly through her body as the clock at the front of the dinner hall ticked closer and closer to seven o'clock, when the bell would ring to signify the end of dinner, forcing the students back to their dorms for a few hours of social time, dependent on their age, before their were sent to bed at 'lights out'. As soon as she heard the first chime echo through the grand hall, Carla leapt from her seat and, after feeding Michelle some excuse about needing to fill out some forms regarding her scholarship funding in the Registry, practically sprinted out of the hall in the direction of the art gallery, which was situation at the far end of the Weatherfield site. She had no idea how Liam planned to make his escape from the boys' school – rules strictly forbade the crossing over of the two schools during the week unless taking part in school-organised activities. Carla was pretty sure that a late-night rendezvous was not classed as one of those activities. <em>It's not a rendezvous<em>, she reminded herself, sternly, _It's just a nice, friendly conversation between two acquaintances_. She scoffed. _Yeah, right_. She plonked herself down onto the little wooden bench just outside the gallery, knowing full well that the building was only ever unlocked for special occasions, and waiting, nervously toying with the necklace fastened around her neck, which Tony had bought her for her fifteenth birthday. Diamond-encrusted and made from 22 karat gold, it was her most exquisite – and expensive – possession. She glanced up in fear as she observed a sudden pounding of footsteps against the few crunchy autumn leaves scattered across the floor growing ever closer, though as the tall, muscular figure of Liam Connor rounded the corner and came into view, her heart rate only increased.

"You're mad," he greeted her as he came to a halt in front of her, bending over slightly to try to catch his breath from his over-exertion (and providing Carla with an irresistible view of his backside in the process), "If Elliott catches you out here, he'll go nuts. You'll land yourself in detention for a week."

"It's locked," Carla explained, scolding herself for the trembling tone of her voice. Liam merely smirked in response, fumbling around in the back pocket of his jeans before drawing out a little gold key.

"Good job one of us came prepared, then, isn't it?" he replied, cheekily, offering her his hand to help her up, which Carla was all too glad to accept, "You look beautiful, by the way." His blue eyes scanned down and up her womanly form, her curves accentuated by her cowl-neck dress, which was scandalously short and fell just above her knees, clinching in at the waist, before nodding approvingly. Carla merely blushed in response, a smile tugging at the corners of her plump lips. Liam laced his fingers through hers, which sent a thrill of electricity through her veins, and led her inside the elegant little building, the photograph of which had been one of the main attractions to the school for Carla. The interior was just as she had imagined, with paintings, both professional and designed by the students themselves, littering the walls, the ceiling miles above their heads and the marble floor so shiny that she could see her reflection in it. Blown away by the sheer beauty of the room, Carla fell silent; Liam, meanwhile, smirked at her reaction.

"Gorgeous, isn't it?" he voiced, to which she could only nod. Chuckling, Liam pulled her over to a comfy-looking maroon loveseat, poised perfectly beneath a stunning painting of a romantic meadow, sitting so close beside her that Carla was worried that he would be able to hear the frantic thudding of her heart. Though, in spite of her nerves, as her eyes met his, she suddenly felt more content than she ever had been in her fifteen years.


End file.
